Still
by icefire-lioness
Summary: Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, Hero. Too many labels, too many changes. Stay still. Lyrics by Ben Folds.


_AN: Lyrics are by Ben Folds (still) and yes, they're the ones from Over The Hedge. A little bit more angsty than the movie, perhaps, but when I heard it I immediately thought of Harry. Hope you like it! Please review!  
_

-

_**I must give the impression that I have the answers for everything; you were so disappointed to see me unravel so easily. It's only change, it's only everything I know, it's only change, and I'm only changing. Lada lada ladadadadada lada ladadadadadada, lada lada ladadadadada lada ladadadadadada**_

Harry sat on the edge of the wooden bench, his elbows resting on his knees, his chin resting on his hands. He gazed out at the black water of the sea, letting the crash of the dark waves soothe his hurt.

The wind blew sand up in little spirals along the beach, and Harry watched them, a small smile on his face as the sand sparkled against the backdrop of the night.

They were all so sad, and they all wanted to see him move on. But it was difficult, and he couldn't be the person that they wanted. He was still The Boy Who Lived, and now he was the man who killed Voldemort, and they called him man but he was still only a boy, and it had nothing to do with him, nothing.

He hadn't meant for them all to love him. He hadn't meant for them to believe in him, but they had, and he wished they hadn't. Maybe if they hadn't, he wouldn't be what he was now. And what he was now was damaged.

They had taken _him_, turned him into something that he shouldn't have been. At that age, it was difficult to tell them that he didn't know how to give what they were asking – worse, that he didn't _want_ to give what they were asking.

Sure, it was exciting, being a 'hero', being someone who everybody looked up to, but the truth was, being a hero every day was too much. It wore him down, like a sanding wheel; shaving him away until he became a shadow.

Most heroes had disguises; they could stop being the hero every now and then. But Harry couldn't, and it was too hard, much too hard.

And when they asked him for more; well, it was too much, and he had broken himself – they had broken him – and he was changed slowly into something which, when he was a child, he had seen as a nothing. He had changed into this, and it was not what he had wanted, it was not what anyone had wanted.

But he didn't blame them, because they were scared, and they needed to hold onto something, and if he was honest with himself, he was mostly glad that he could help, even if it meant he had been made into this now. Even if he was angry and disappointed and sad, and everything he had wished for was burned down like a candle left in a dark room overnight.

_**  
You want something that's constant and I only wanted to be me, but watch even the stars above; things that seem still are still changing. Lada lada ladadadadada lada ladadadadadada, lada lada ladadadadada lada ladadadadadada, lada lada ladadadadada lada ladadadadadada, lada lada ladadadadada lada ladadadadadada**_

Harry stood, adjusting his feet in the sand, his arms behind his back.

Maybe, even though they wished for him still, maybe he was finished. Maybe there was nothing else for him to do, no more way for him to help them.

Even if there was, he didn't want to, not really, and he felt that there was one last wish he could give himself and they couldn't take it away, not tonight, because they had taken all his other wishes, and they didn't deserve this one. Not this one.

Harry walked down the beach to the water, watching the waves hiss onto the sand.

And then he was walking into to the water, the dark sea folding over his feet and up his ankles. He looked at the stars and he saw them bright and cold, and smiling at him.

He melted into the water, not pushing, letting it pull and push as it wanted, and feeling that it was ironically like his life. With a smile, he pulled himself through the water, carving his own path, and swimming out further, his clothes heavy with water, his arms burning with effort.

He reached a patch of sea where there was no seaweed, and put his arms to his sides. His eyes still open, Harry let himself sink into the water, his clothes dragging him down.

As the night sky above him wavered, stars blurring into never seen patterns, Harry felt his feet hit the sandy floor, and looked one last time at the stars.

Taking in a deep breath of ocean, Harry silently gazed at the stars, and whispered his last words to them.

"Thank you for letting me."


End file.
